


Your Entire Personality is a Riddle, Mr. Knightly

by mcgarrygirl78



Series: How Soon is Now? [3]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 05:03:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2415926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when you thought no one was watching everyone was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Entire Personality is a Riddle, Mr. Knightly

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in the kinda canon universe where Hotch worked security detail for Emily’s mother. I also wrote _[In Ecstasy](http://community.livejournal.com/hotch_prentiss/129156.html)_ and [_Champagne High_ ](http://community.livejournal.com/hotch_prentiss/133294.html)in that universe. This story takes place after the events of _Champagne High_.  This is **#3** in the **How Soon is Now?** series.

He didn’t know how long he was watching before approaching her. It was chilly out but that didn’t seem to affect what she was doing. Emily Prentiss was curled up in a lawn chair, her face pressed into a book. Aaron Hotchner took a deep breath and sat down on the side of the chair.

 

“Aren't you cold?” he asked.

 

He didn’t know what else to say. Conversation had been awkward for the past week and he blamed himself. He was still reeling over what happened between them; he was in a state of shock. All he could do was push it to the back of his mind and do his job. Of course his job right now was protecting her body. Because of his weakness, Hotch now knew just how precious that body truly was.

 

“I'm wearing a jacket.” Emily didn’t look at him as she turned the page. There were a million things she wanted to say but knew none of them would come out right. It wasn’t hard to sense his apprehension and regret. She was tired of being someone's regret. 

 

She wanted to damn Aaron Hotchner to hell. She wanted to just forget she ever met him. He wouldn’t be the first guy who took what he wanted and headed for the hills. Unfortunately, this time Emily left a piece of herself on the pillow beside him. How was she going to get that back?

 

“What are you reading?”

 

She held up Jane Austen’s _Emma_ , a first edition and gift from her grandmother, but didn’t speak. Emily turned another page.

 

“Emily…”

 

“If you don’t have anything significant to say, I would like to finish my book please.”

 

“That’s really not fair.”

 

“Life’s not fair, Hotch.”

 

“Why are you treating me this way? I've never been anything but kind to you. Don’t do that to me. I don’t deserve it.”

 

“Gee, I'm sorry.”

 

“Well, if you're going to act like a petulant child,” Hotch stood. “This conversation is over.”

 

“You call this a conversation?” Emily finally managed to tear her eyes away from the book. “Maybe for your next birthday I’ll buy you a dictionary.”

 

Hotch bit the inside of his jaw to keep from saying what he wanted to. He wasn’t being fair or maybe he just wasn't trying hard enough to understand. Something had changed between the two of them; he would not be able to get away without addressing it. It was so hard to look into her eyes and see pain. Emily was so amazing; impetuous, impulsive, sometimes completely and utterly out of control but amazing. He couldn’t fall in love with her…it would surely tear him to shreds.

 

“I'm sorry.” He sat down again, fighting the urge to place his hand on her knee. No one was around but the walls, the grass, the chairs; it all had eyes. Just when you thought no one was watching everyone was. “Emily, I'm sorry.”

 

“What are you sorry for?”

 

“I think you know.”

 

“You were thinking with the wrong head…surely it happens to every man. Did you think yourself immune?”

 

“Stop talking like that.” Hotch found it difficult to hold back his anger. “That’s not what happened and you know it.”

 

“All I know is that you’ve been treating me as if I've done something wrong. I didn’t do anything wrong, Hotch.”

 

“I know, Em, I know that. I…this isn’t easy to talk about. It surely isn’t easy to talk about here.”

 

“We can talk later.” She replied. “I can come over.”

 

“That’s not a good idea.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I think you know why not.”

 

“I know I'm tired of trying to figure out what you're thinking. We’re both adults; we can have a conversation with each other. Can't we?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then make me dinner, and I might forgive you.” Emily said.

 

“Oh,” Hotch smiled despite how he was feeling. She really was something else. “You might forgive me?”

 

“I like food, and I want to see you.” Her tone softened.

 

“We could both get in a lot of trouble; me much more than you. If we get caught I could lose my job.”

 

“I know.” She nodded. “That means we’re not getting caught, doesn’t it?”

 

Emily wanted him. She had spent her whole life giving up what she wanted because she didn’t have a choice. There was a choice here and she wasn’t giving up Aaron Hotchner. Emily could keep the secret to her grave. She could remain aloof and uninterested in public, hell she had been raised aloof and uninterested. 

 

Emily’s game face was legendary…sometimes she wasn’t even sure what she was thinking. Only when they were alone could she shed her skin. She shed her pain, her anger, and her mask. She refused to let fear take that opportunity away from her, even if the fear was from the one person who nearly gave her security.

 

“I really do want to talk to you.” Hotch replied, sighing. Damn it to hell but resisting her was nearly impossible. He had been drawn to her from the moment they met. He could fight it, had been fighting it, but he would lose. The ice hadn’t been this thin in a long time.

 

“What time do you get off?”

 

“Eight.”

 

“I’ll meet you later.” She said.

 

“When?”

 

“I’ll be there; wait for me.”

 

“I think you’ve been reading too many of those 19th century romances.” Hotch replied.

 

“Why Mr. Knightly, I didn’t think you noticed that sort of thing.”

 

“I notice everything, Miss Woodhouse.” He stood and stepped away from the chair. “You should go inside…it’s getting chillier. You’re going to catch cold.”

 

“I will in a little while.”

 

He didn’t say anything else, walking away toward the house. Elizabeth Prentiss met him halfway.

 

“Agent Hotchner?”

 

“Yes, ma'am?”

 

“Is Emily alright?” She asked.

 

“She’s reading. I told her to go inside because it was cold but she wasn’t in the mood to listen today.”

 

“You will look after her?”

 

“Yes ma'am.”

 

“You're very good at your job, young man.”

 

“Thank you, ma'am.”

 

“My daughter can be…a handful. She’s practically docile with you.”

 

“I don’t think so, ma'am. While not as combative as I was told she could be, docile is never an adjective I would use to describe Emily.” Hotch said.

 

“What would you use?” Elizabeth asked.

 

“I hadn’t given it much thought. You brought this up, ma'am, not me.”

 

“Well, think about it. Perhaps we will have this conversation again in the future.”

 

“Yes ma'am.” Hotch watched her walk away. She went down and sat with her daughter. Emily’s body language immediately changed. She held her book to her chest, turning her head. When her eyes connected with Hotch’s, he tried to put on a smile. When Elizabeth turned as well, Hotch cleared his throat and walked away. The Ambassador was a smart woman. It was altogether possible that the newbie FBI Agent was running on borrowed time.

 

***

                                                                                                                              


End file.
